“You make me feel beautiful,” I whispered. Just like he’d whispered that night. I’d lied when I’d told him it was a mistake.
“You are.” His eyes met mine in the mirror.
The remaining curtain between us dropped.
“I’m here. With you.”
“Stay with me.”
He inhaled deeply as he slid his hands down my arms. He twined our fingers together and lifted them to my breasts. I surrendered. He controlled my movements.
“Do you touch yourself this way?”
“No.”
He squeezed. “I think you do. And you wish it was me.” I melted against his solid frame. “That’s right, Wicked. Let me support you.”
“I don’t need you,” I said breathily, fairly sure that was a lie.
“But you want me. Right now, that’s enough.”
He skated my hands down my stomach and between my legs. With purposeful strokes, our fingers slid between my slit. Slick heat coated our digits. He teased, and I let him, though I desperately wanted to push inside.
A quick peek up and my breath caught when I found him looking at my face.
“Watch while we make you come.”
“You’re not.”
He applied pressure to my clit, and my gaze dropped.
“Look at how wet our fingers are. What will it be like inside that pretty pussy?”
My thighs clenched.
“Do you want to find out, Wicked?” He pushed just the tips of our fingers into my opening.
“Yes,” I said through my teeth as I fought not to take over and plunge inside.
“Then tell me. Have you touched yourself while imagining it was my fingers?”
“No.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“It was your cock.”
He grinned wickedly. “Tell me how I fucked you?” His teeth grazed my ear.
“Hard,” I rasped.
“And?”
“From behind. On the floor. Against the wall,” I said between pants.
“You’ve gone dirtier than that.” His husky voice sent a chill through me.
“On your desk.”
“Wicked . . .”
“In the sand. Right on the edge of the water. I know it would suck, but you all sandy and wet?” My sex contracted around our fingers.
“If you’d have told me, I could’ve done something about it. Now it’s broad daylight. Anyone could see,” he scolded.
“I don’t care.”
He plunged our fingers inside. My lips parted as my legs grew weak. With slow, steady strokes, he moved in and out.
“I shouldn’t have to tell you,” I said breathlessly.
“But you hate me,” he whispered against my ear.
“If you don’t make me come, I will.”
“So I might not be so bad?”
“Will you stop talking and fuck me?”
The pace he dictated was maddeningly slow. I screamed in frustration.
“Let it out, Wicked. Give it all to me.”
My other hand was trapped beneath his on my hip. I dug my nails into my flesh.
“More.”
“You want more?” His voice was a seductive taunt.
“That’s what I said.”
“How much more?”
“All of it,” I cried.
He sucked on my neck and pressed against my G-spot. Everything across my lower stomach tightened before it released.
“Patrick.”
My cries echoed off the bathroom walls. He kissed and pumped, extending the pleasure to the point I could no longer stand on my own.
“I’ve got you, Wicked.” He withdrew our fingers and put them in his mouth. “And I’m about to give you want you want. From behind.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Patrick
When she let go and it was just the two of us, she was the most incredible thing I’d ever seen. That was what I’d been clinging to all these weeks. Why I couldn’t give up on her, even though most of the time I wasn’t sure I liked her.
That look on her face as she surrendered . . . nothing had ever made me feel anything remotely close to whatever that was. I was desperate to hold on to it.
I skimmed my hand up her spine, gently bent her forward until her forearms braced on the counter. With glazed eyes, she watched as I dropped my shorts. Her breaths grew shallow when my erection sprang free.
I stroked it a few times, rubbed the head against her ass, smearing the pearl of liquid on her skin.
That was my fucking signature. She was mine.
I ran a finger up her slit, swirled her desire with mine on her ass cheek. Her pussy was swollen and pink, begging for my dick.
My pulse thrummed in my neck. I gripped her hip and nudged my cock at her opening. She pushed back, her dark eyes on mine.
I paused a beat and slammed all the way home. I groaned as wet heat gripped my shaft.
Instinct took over. I thrust with intent.
The need to mark her motivated me. The desire to pleasure her superseded all else.
Her face twisted in ecstasy, and I nearly came unglued. Our eyes remained locked.
Breaths harsh. Skin slick with sweat. Bullshit evaporated.
“Take me, Wicked. Take all I have to give.” I drove into her, relentless, the tempo rapid, the slapping of skin marking the pace.
She pounded her fist on the countertop. “I need.”
“I’ve got you.”
I skated one hand around to her clit and strummed.
“Patrick.”
Her hips bucked back, matching my thrusts.
“I want you with me,” I grunted.
“I’m with you.” Her cry abruptly cut off as she clenched around me.
Her features softened as she embraced the pleasure.
Lips parted. Jaw slack. Eyes sated.
That look.
My spine tingled before I erupted, holding her in place. Her walls squeezed me dry until tiny pulses were all that remained.
I collapsed on top of her, cheek pressed against her hair.
“You smell like the beach.”
“You’re squishing me.”
“You can still talk. You’re okay.”
I pulled her up until we were both straight.
“I’m dead.”
I sucked on her pulse point. “Hmm. Not yet.”
She leaned her full weight against me. “I can’t do anymore. Not right now.”
I splayed my hands across her stomach. “What about the floor? Wall? Shower?”
“You’re an ass.”
“You didn’t think so a minute ago when I made you come.”
“Temporary insanity.”
“Yeah. It was.”
“Howwww.”
We froze. Reality crashed over us. She disentangled and had my shirt over her head before I could blink. I hopped and put on my shorts as I chased after her.
A red faced Blake sat in the middle of his bed, cheeks wet. Marlow sat beside him, and I joined them on his other side.
“What is
